MrPresident
by silentnights626
Summary: The new Leader of the Free World has a run in with an old flame.


**Hi. **

**I will open with a disclaimer: This story is about Edison Davis (in case you clicked and failed to read the character description) If you don't like him, please click the back button, for this fic is not for you and will hate every moment of it. Thank you **

**Now that that's done, I must say I miss Scandal. I enjoyed the Season finale a bunch especially the ending (talk about a WTF moment finding out who her daddy is). But I must say I miss Edison. He was a good guy who only wanted to love Olivia (I believe so anyway). So I wanted to give him a good bye ending that I think he deserves. So I wrote this little one shot for him. So please:**

**Read, Enjoy, and Review.**

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"... Thank-you, God bless you, and God bless our United States of America" He boomed over the cheers of the mass crowd that howled in celebration of their leader's closing words. As he stepped off of his podium, the cracks and pops of bright light bulbs, from the smallest of iphones, to the largest of the professional photographers, who all did their best to capture that moment of history.

His moment.

The one he worked so hard for. All of his fighting, tooth and nail debates, and down to the wire election, where every vote truly did count, all brought him this savory scene. The delicious decadences of being praised simultaneously, not only by his well wishers, and constituents in the packed standing room arena he just spoke to, but also by the soundless citizens of the nation he loved so dearly. The nation he has fought to protect. The nation, who in viewing his love for it, took their time, some waiting hours in line, just to fill in a circle by his name, entrusting him with the job of being their leader. He fully understood the electoral college and how their votes granted him the position, but it was the people who made this moment. He gave one last wave of his hand before disappearing into the back stage area of the venue.

He took large strides as he and his secret service crew moved swiftly into a wrangling area. Once there he planned to steal a small moment to himself, something he had very little of since the primaries, to allow the moment to sink in. He told his guards that right after his speech to kindly and quickly clear out. To give him some time to understand what he had just done. To really taste the victory he had just accepted. A moment before approval ratings, polls, and other popularity devices worked diligently and effectively to steal this high. Before constituents, donors, and party members called in all of the favors he promised. He just wanted to feel this moment.

His service men opened the door of the small room, where he took the time to prep, suit straightening and make up application, took place as his adrenaline coursed feverously through his veins. Now it was quite, not in a deflated since, but in a way that welcomed contemplation. However, once he looked over the shoulder of his lead service man, he was frozen to find two large brown eye pierce him from across the room. His service man acting quickly reached for a his weapon, unsure of what the protocol was for such an immediate invasion of his new bosses privacy. He quickly placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder saying "NO! No it's okay... Leave us please?" His service man allowed his muscles to relax, breathing a relieving sigh before looking back at his boss. His eyes covered by glasses, however he knew they asked if he was sure. "I'll call you when I'm ready" he confirmed. Stepping to the side he allowed his service man to leave, closing the door softly behind him.

"Well, he's jumpy" Olivia quipped in a light and sarcastic tone. "No question he's ready to protect you"

With his hand still on the door knob he closed his eyes and inhaled softly. Even though she was a distance away from him, and it was in no way overpowering, or strong, he could smell her perfume, swaying softly into his nostrils. He always admired how she smelled of vanilla and jasmine. It was just like her, distinctive yet extremely feminine in its presentation. "Well, my life is his job" he answered, his back still turned not wanting to show her effect on him. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" He questioned, after regaining his ability to move. Turning towards her he found her in the same spot, just as lovely as the day she brutally crushed his heart.

Smiling softly she played with the delicate pair of gloves she had taken off. "I just wanted to be one of the first to congratulate you" she answered honestly.

"And?" he probed knowing that she was also one of the first people who would be cashing in on a favor, if owed.

"No and" she shrugged taking a few steps closer. "It's not every day an old friend is elected Commander and Chief"

He chuckled to himself. It was her use of the word "friend". He shook his head in amusement of how she had the ability to wave off what they had. Like their history was one that never included sweet kisses, and promises of forever. Like they never had floor plans drawn up by contractors, that coincided with the life plan, drawn up in part, by her. That they never did wine tastings, or jazz listening, or heated political debates that turned into equally as passionate, all night love making. Like they never shared a soda, let alone a kiss. "Friend" he scoffed softly. He looked up into her eyes to find a bit of something he never like to see in them. Fear. She never showed it when confronted head on, always having her armor up, sword drawn, ready to take one her contenders. But if you knew her, and looked deeply, you could find small waves of doubt and fear mixed in with her bravado, and stoic nature. "So tell me, friend, how have you been?" he questioned, playfully, but really needing an answer.

"Good" she replied in a cool manner. Surprisingly, considering everything she'd endured since their break-up. The reveal that his previous suspicions where true. That she, Olivia Pope was carrying on an "inappropriate" relationship with former President, Fitzgerald Grant. What came soon after was a media blitz to find out everything about the woman who "tore down the White House". The digging into her background, asking former teachers, college roommates and other distant acquaintances about her, searching for the most salacious information. They tested him, bringing up their failed engagement, and if he had any inkling at all about her "double" life. He would give only a praise worthy responses about her work, and overall being, before turning it back to the campaign and its issues. No matter all of the hurt feelings, and broken promises they gave each other, he still had only high remarks for her.

But the new love of his life helped to keep him grounded and focused on his task. She had been a God send in every sense of the word. He drifted back to the day he first saw her. The very same day his heart was crushed a second time by the woman standing in front of him. After receiving his Grandmother's ring, he decided that going to Justice Verna's funeral would send him into an even darker mood. Instead, he chose to wonder the streets of the city he loved, alone. He strolled past the many historic sites that drew millions each year, the ones that astounded him as a young politician, and contemplated why he couldn't obtain romantic love from the woman who just admitted to his face, that even with all of his love and support, he was not enough for her. He silently observed loving couples weave their way through the early blooming cherry blossoms, as the reality that his heart had been handed back to him, even worse for wear. He knew the amount of love he had to give, but couldn't comprehend why he had yet to find a woman willing to accept the full amount of it. Had his confidence clouded his judgment? Had he not done enough? Too much?

Without realizing it, he found himself standing at the counter of a small boutique cafe. The chill in the air called for a bit of warmth, he was hoping to find in a beverage. He called out, getting the barista's attention, finding her preoccupied with her other drink making duties. She turned around after hearing a small call of "Excuse me?" to find him towering over her, well manicured and tailored. Her eyes sparkled as she addressed him by his formal title and last name. This greeting caught his full attention, mainly because many women her apparent age, normally didn't know who he was, or what he did. And if they did, they didn't seem that amazed to be running into him at a coffee shop. She took his drink order, and he found a quite seat in the shop, where he could meditate on his broken heart, while attempting to enjoy his drink. But every now and again he would glance up at the perky barista, who he thought he caught once or twice glancing in his direction.

After that day he found himself wondering into that shop more and more, considering himself lucky if she was working that day. Weeks turned into months, and before he had realized it, he had turned into a regular, to the point she would announce his drink order once he stepped to the front of her line. It took him a while to admit that he was drawn to the particular spot, not only because of the ease of the atmosphere, or the blends of coffee offered, but because his day was sweetened by her smile, and soothed by the sound of her voice.

The old Edison would have used his savviest moves to ask her out, sweeping her off her feet. However, this Edison was changed. Not only had his break up stolen his heart, it had also done damaged to his seemingly impenetrable ego. He figured a young lady such as herself would never be interested in him, a stuffy politician, who was obviously much her senior. But he kept frequenting her business, smiling politely when she call out his drink order before he even had the chance to part his lips. And as always, he accepted his drink, paid for his drink, tipping the establishment jar generously, before taking a seat in a corner, engulfing himself in his paper, book, or whatever other device he had with him to keep him preoccupied, as her cheery voice rang out through the small shop.

Until one day. It was a particularly rainy one, as autumn just stared to put a chill in the dusk and dawn air, but the time in between still burned with a bit of summer heat. Edison lightly jogged into the almost desolate shop, shaking his trench of the impromptu warm large raindrops. He went through his regular routine of almost ordering, before she would offer is usual. He paid, tipped, and sat down to an iPhone of emails. However this day, as his eyes were glued to his screen, instead of her voice, he heard the sliding scrape of chair across from him being pulled out. Her smile slapped him, as she plopped down, her bottomless brown eyes entrapping him as she blinked sweetly. She broke the ice coolly, asking if he minded if she spent her break at his table? In trying to keep just as cool as she had, he replied that he didn't mind at all. They sparked a conversation, that introduced him to who she was, beyond her barista duties. He learned that she was a graduate student at George Washington University in Political Management and Advocacy and that she aspired to become a lobbyist. He was impressed by her fervor for all things political, and offered to take her resume to help her if she needed any references in the future. At his offer, she smiled but her eyes sank a bit. He leaned in asking if she was unhappy with his proposition, noting her slight disappointment with it. She smiled, thanking him, admitting it was an amazing opportunity, but she sat down "hoping..." she cut herself short confessing it was silly, as she stood to leave him with his emails. Edison, not wanting her to leave, quickly placed a gentle stopping hand on her wrist before quickly asking her out to dinner. It happened so quickly, he hadn't even realized he may have almost yelled it, before he noticed the wideness of her eyes by his invitation. He swiftly added, that it was only if she wanted to talk more, and didn't have to be considered an actual date, in a venture to cushion his already fragile confidence from any possible rejection. She quickly accepted, her eyes telling him that it was her real reason for her approach.

That day, that awkward invitation, was the start of a romance. One he had been in search of, one he had never had before. She was the wind his sails required. His career pushed forward in part due to her faith in him and his decisions. She was the one who encouraged him to put together an exploratory committee, when he brought it up to her one day as they laid carefree together on his couch, her wrapped in his long arms. She pointed out that she knew he would make an amazing President, and how she knew that was the logical next step in his life. But she also realistically pointed out the factors that may count against him, including his race, and marital status. But she swiftly waived it off, pushing him, excited that he was going after his dream. And throughout the campaign she proved a valuable asset. She became not only his lover, his political sparring partner, one who challenged him on all his stances on all issues, ensuring that he had the ability to give diplomatic responses, while honestly giving his platform. She gave late nights, long days, and many organizational skills to his political fight. She even had the ability to keep a stiff lip when Olivia was outted as the mistress to the incumbent, President Grant. She listened understandingly when he explained who she was in his life, and how without her, they would have never met. She was not jealous or hurt by the mention of his former fiancée, training him on that issue personally, figuring if he could honestly answer questions about his previous relationship, he could do it in any other forum. She was biggest cheerleader and critic rolled into an amazing package. She was his love, his heart, his rock.

"Well I'm glad you're doing well" he spoke to Olivia, still keeping a professional, and respectable distance between them.

"And your girl is... Lovely" she smiled, a knowing smile. He figured she had done a background check on her for his opposition, knowing that if she was anything less than honorable, he could count on her to inform him of whatever flaws she may have possessed. It was one, knowing that she was pretty clear of any misdeeds, if she hadn't it would have come out in the campaign.

"Thank you" he responded, adding "She is"

They stood in another comfortable silence, sizing each other. After a moment Olivia sighed taking her gloves into one hand before announcing that she "must be on her way".

Edison agreed, stepping to the side while opening the door, allowing her to leave. "Congratulations again... Mr. President" Olivia whispered softly, patting him softly on the shoulder before her exit into the tunnel.

He stepped out across from her, finding himself surrounded by his service men once more as they quickly flanked him. She smiled at the view before turning to walk towards an exist she know wouldn't be consumed with cameras. Edison watched her take a few steps before he remembered the last time he looked at her. "Olivia?" he called out, causing her to turn on her heels to face him.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked, causing her forehead to furrows in curiosity. "That "painfully, life changing" love?" he clarified referring to their last meeting. "Did you find it?"

Her lips spread into a soft, but slightly pain filled smirk. She blinked slowly twice before replying "Don't you know Mr. President?" leaving a bit of confusion on his face. "Love doesn't hurt" she closed before turning back and walking out of his life.

He smiled, happy that she was finally on a better path, then the one she was previously on. Because no matter where they ended up, he still only wanted, and knew that she deserved, every ounce of happiness she could hold. If not with him, then with someone. He watched her a moment silently, before turning with his service men, and headed for his secured exit, with plans of a White House Wedding, in his head.


End file.
